


Forest Fire

by VolarFinch



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Crush, F/M, Fighting, Jealousy, Realization, Voltron
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-14 02:13:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10526733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolarFinch/pseuds/VolarFinch
Summary: Kidge Week Prompts.





	1. Green with Envy

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1: Jealousy.

Pidge knew jealousy to be an ugly thing.

She knew very well she should have been happy for Keith and Lance––the two had been pinning for each other for what seemed like years and now they were finally together! Pidge clearly remembered their first kiss and how happy they’d seemed together. She couldn’t understand the ugly pit that had clenched her chest, roaring with anger as she saw Keith’s eyes light up.

She’d smiled and jokingly said, “It’s about time.”

Lance was happy. Keith was happy.

So why wasn’t she?

Back when Pidge had been “Katie” (a name that felt lost on her now), she’d been jealous a few times. Once, when Matt had solved a rubix cube in less than two minute and he wouldn’t share. A second time was when Matt got accepted into the Garrison––she wanted to go too. The last time Pidge could remember really being jealous was when her brother and father announced that they’d be going on the first mission to Kerberos.

Pidge’s heart swelled with anger and sorrow, hands tightening into fists.

Why did she feel this way? Why did seeing Keith with Lance hurt so much? Pidge had never experienced this potion of emotions before. She hated it. She took a deep breath, forcing her body to relax. It didn’t do any good––if anything, her body grew tighter and less cooperative.

Her foot tapped absentmindedly against the floor, the sound irritating her. She wanted so much right now,––her family, to understand her feelings, for her stupid foot to stop bouncing––but her entire body seemed to be rejecting her. Her subconscious was trying to convey something––what was it?

Pidge jumped off the bed, body twitching for action. She wanted to punch something. She needed to move around; she needed to release her pent-up emotions in some way.

She grabbed her bayard, storming from her room as she navigated her way to the training deck. Throughout the entire walk, she begged for the halls to be left empty and for the training deck to be hollow of life. Fate or whatever godly power that may exist gave her her wish––she arrived at the training deck without confrontation. God forbid Shiro had found her––she needed to be alone. She didn’t want to deal with anybody, lest she take her anger out on them. She couldn’t risk hurting her teammates more than she already had.

“Activate training level five!” Pidge called out. The training deck responded in beeps and whirls, a fighting droid erupting from the ground with the usual Altean–esque sword. What Pidge took for the droid’s eye blinked to life, the robot getting into position. Pidge activated her bayard, her weapon sparking to life as she mimicked her opponent.

The robot lunged.

The automation blurred in front of Pidge, diving forward with a swipe of its blade. Pidge rushed forward, dropping to her knees and sliding forward. She passed underneath the robot, swinging her bayard out. The blade erupted from the base, whipping towards the robot. However, her opponent turned and slashed the weapon out of its way. Pidge bounded up, running as her bayard became one unit again. The gladiator bot chased after her, eye following her every move as her mind whirled for a solution.

Keith would know what to do, her mind whispered. With him, this thing would already be done with.

Pidge stumbled, forcing her body to roll last second as the droid went to sever her head from her neck. She panted as she sat up, eyes dancing around the training deck for anything that could help her. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothingnothingnothingnothing _nothing_.

There was no one there for Pidge.

She was used to that.

_Lance would do better than you. It’s why Keith chose him over you._

“There was never a choice to be made,” Pidge panted to herself as she jumped out of the way. She felt her body hit the floor and pain spasmed throughout her. Her head throbbed. She forced herself up onto her knees, staring at the ground with wide, distressed eyes.

“End training sequence,” she breathed out.

The droid stilled, its blue eyes blinking in and out before shutting down. It lowered its arm, the sword it'd about to have impaled Pidge with clattering to the ground.

Pidge breathed heavily, forehead touching the floor as she tried to control her aching body. Everything felt too hot. Her body was laced with sweat. She clenched her eyes shut in hopes of dulling the pain. Her thoughts echoed about Keith, about his fighting stance, about how her hand seemed to fit into his perfectly, about his stupid messy hair, and about the way his eyes lit up when he saw her.

_Saw Lance. He doesn’t see you that way. He chose Lance._

“There wasn’t a choice to make,” she repeated, her voice less firm this time. “Keith likes Lance. Lance likes Keith. And I…” Like Keith, her subconscious finished. The realization dawned upon her eyes snapped open. She pushed herself up, staring blankly as her breathing began to slow.

“Oh,” she whispered to herself. She managed to laugh bitterly. “Figures.”


	2. The Art of Suffering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 2: Loss

Over the years, Keith had become dull to pain.

Not physical pain, but emotional. Pain that’d strike him in the heart, cutting him artery by artery as he struggled to hold himself together. Suffering that’d impale him, slowly driving its blade through him. Again and again and again Keith trudged through the pain, eyes wet with tears until the trail of tears behind him dried. He could list every event that had caused him to cry in order––he’d recited it to so many adults, so many caretakers, so many people that the list had been burned into his mind.

The first time he sobbed was when his father left him. He hadn’t been aware of what had happened––he’d come home to an empty house, save for the men from child services. He’d asked––begged––to see his father one last time,––to ask him to explain––but he was simply ignored. He was seven at the time.

The second time he cried was when it hit him no one would want him. Families came and went, kids arrived and left, but Keith stayed. He taught the new kids the way of the orphanage and watched as they got adopted, leaving him behind like everyone else. Keith had been beginning to think he was a hopeless case, until the Shirogane family adopted him.

That had been the third time he cried. It was a change of pace, tears of joy instead of sorrow. It felt relieving for twelve-year-old Keith to know he knew more than just pain.

For nearly four years, Keith kept on without worry, without pain, without fear of the future. He had a family, an amazing older brother, and had finally been accepted into the Galaxy Garrison to pursue both his dream of flying and his brother.

Then, calamity struck.

Keith had been left winded, crying and screaming out of sheer, inexpressible angst at the loss of his brother. He felt his body ache, his mind swirled with frustration, and he couldn’t think straight. His brilliant new life, torn from his grip as if some cruel cosmic joke.

“Here, have this bit of happiness,” Life told him, before immediately thrusting it out of his hands while laughing maliciously. “Hah! You think I was serious? People like you don’t deserve happiness.”

When Keith was kicked out from the Garrison, he hadn’t cried. He simply packed up his bags, called his parents and told them he needed time, and bought his own place out in the desert. Sure, it was a run-down place, but it was his and he wasn’t letting this slip between his fingers.

Life had slowly pieces itself back together––Shiro crash-landed in an alien ship after a year, he met with some classmates, he met Pidge, and life seemed to be looking up again. He was suspicious––being in space, piloting a robot lion, and being with Shiro and Pidge just seemed… too good. It wasn’t like his track record of misery and agony. What was the deal?

Then pieces of his life appeared before him. Things he’d never known, never questioned, played out before him like a grand puzzle, leading to the biggest shocker of his miserable life yet––he was the enemy. He was Galra.

His life fell apart again: Allura ignored him; the team glanced at him when they thought he couldn’t see, muttering amongst themselves suspiciously; Shiro seemed hesitant around him, as if he couldn’t trust him. His life was in ruins and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Tears didn’t form at this realization, just a heavy realization that he was never meant for anything good in the world. He was a tool of destruction, pain, and anger and _why_  couldn’t he acknowledge it already?

But a hand found its way into Keith’s, pulling him up from his crevasse of despair. Keith found himself freed from the abyss, staring into the eyes of Pidge, a sad smile on the Green Paladin’s face.

“You need a hand?” she offered.

He accepted.


	3. Cried for a Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Three: Change

It had been fifty-six hours, twelve minutes, and thirteen seconds since Shiro had disappeared.

Everyone had been set on edge: the sudden loss of their leader––their rock, their center of gravity––had set everyone on edge. There was no way to change that. No wormhole could alter the universe. Everything was as it was.

And it hurt.

Pidge felt choked on a good day. On a bad day, she suffocated on tears in bed, unable to get up or move past the pain. She couldn’t comprehend her loss, yet at the same time she understood it all–too well. Shiro was gone. Gone. Just like that. Just like the rest of her family, again. She could have done something. She could have done something. But she didn’t. She just sat there and watches, unable to do anything again, because God forbid she helps those she loves.

Keith, on a bad day, would find himself passed out on the training deck’s floors, unable to remember how he’d gotten there. He’d hoist himself up, ignoring the sting from a wound the healing pod couldn’t mend, adjust his grip on his bayard, and demand the next training level with little regard to his health. He’d slash and hack, be kicked back, hit the floor harder and stay down longer, and yet he refused to stay down. It’s not how he worked. He had to move, had to breathe, had to keep going until he couldn’t see the pain from the past. He had to move until the pain of Shiro’s absence didn’t hurt.

Minutes turned into hours, hours into days, days into weeks. Truth be told, neither could identify how long they’d been feeling apathetic, forcing down the emotions until they couldn’t feel anything anymore. They did their best to cope, but what was there to do? Nothing.

I should I helped, both of them thought.

Keith’s bayard clattered to the ground, reverting to its natural form, leaving him panting heavily as he tried to regain his breath. His heart hammered in his chest. His legs ached, trembling under his own weight. His arms weighed like lead, holding him down like the chains of his grief.

Tears gathered in his eyes, a mixture of frustration, pain, and sorrow words could not describe. He hadn’t felt this way in such a long time––he was so convinced he’d become numb. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but fight, fight, fight. He screamed, falling to the floor as he punched the ground. He cried for Shiro, he cried for a change, he cried for any universe that had Shiro in it. He needed Shiro––he needed him.

A body noiseless sat down next to him, arms hesitantly wrapping around his shoulders. He stiffened, eyes snapping open at the contact. His gaze flickered to the person, catching sight of green and white.

Pidge.

Pidge didn’t say anything, simply laying on top of him, arms wrapped around him. His shirt felt damp––any embarrassment he had felt, no matter how brief, vanished. He curled into a tight ball, hand reaching out for one of Pidge’s. Her smaller hand looped into his, feeling so horribly right that Keith felt ashamed to be feeling that brief happiness at all. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve the happiness Pidge brought.

“I’m tired, Keith,” she managed out, her voice hoarse and quiet. “I’m so tired.”

Keith breathed in slowly, his body shuddering at the action as his grip tightened on Pidge’s hand.

No words had to be spoken to communicate. They had a connection like that.

Pidge felt hollow, but Keith’s hand in hers brought a warmth she detested. She shouldn’t be allowed to feel this bit of joy in a time of depression. It wasn’t fair for Shiro, who could be dead. She shouldn’t be allowed to be happy.

“I want to go home, Keith,” she whispered. It was the first time she’d ever admitted it out loud. Keith’s grip on her hand loosened slightly. “I want to go back home, where Mom is and where Dad and Matt supposed to be. Where Shiro is supposed to be. This isn’t fair. I just… I want Shiro.”

Keith forced himself up. Pidge sat up, watching his with dulled brown eyes as he turned to her. Both of their eyes were red.

Keith wrapped his arms around Pidge, hiding his face in the crook of her neck as she leaned into him. Her hands clenched his shirt tightly.

“I want Shiro back too.”


End file.
